One Wish
by TheLittlestAuthor
Summary: Based on HetaOni SPOILER ALERT England has gone blind, leaving America to care for him. If Alfred could have one wish, he would wish for his friend to see again. Britain would wish for something else entirely. USUK Oneshot


**A/N: Over the weekend, I've gotten really hooked on this thing called "HetaOni". I'm sure most Hetalia fans have heard of it. If not, I command you to go watch the first episode NOW. If you have not watched it, do not continue, there's a huge spoiler ahead... ready? SPOILER: This one-shot takes place after the nations leave the haunted house, in a time loop in which England has gone blind (like in chapter 16). There's some USUK in here, so if you don't like that kind of stuff, look at the top of your browser. There should be a nice little x up there somewhere that will close the window. After I finish this I'll get back to work on my other fanfics. Anyways, you've been warned...**

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_"I... I'm sorry America... I can no longer see."_

"BRITAIN!" Alfred gasped, sitting up. It took him a moment to realize he had only encountered yet another nightmare. His heart was beating quickly, his face drenched in sweat. His bead squeaked below him softly. He took a look around, reassuring himself that he was, in fact, in his own house. It had been a mere month since everyone had escaped the hellish haunted house that had kept them captive for so long. America had been having nightmares every day since then. On occasion they were about the strange creatures that roamed the house, but the ones that dominated his thoughts were the ones involving Britain... going blind.

"Are you okay?" A voice said from the doorway. It was Arthur's. After escaping the haunted mansion, the man had been forced to live with America. Alfred knew that his ally would be lost without his eyes, so he pledged the be them. After the month of being home, Britain's senses of touch and sound had improved to a point where the man could find his way around America's home relatively easily. He now stood in the doorway of the American's room, his foggy eyes looking no where in particular.

"Y-yah," Alfred nodded. "J-just a nightmare."

"Oh." Arthur murmured. The word harbored no emotion, for he was only relaying that he understood the excuse. "You've been having a lot of those."

"Yah." the other returned, rubbing beads of sweat from his forehead. He watched closely as the blonde made his way over towards the bed. He sat down slowly, resting his hand on the bed first to make sure he knew where he was going to end up. He then stared blankly towards the wall, as he had no idea where his ally was.

"Britain?" America began softly, bringing his knees up towards his body, feeling cold in his warm bedroom. The British man turned towards his friend's voice. "What do you see?"

To America's surprise, the British man smiled.

"That's a strange question, America," he murmured. "If you're wondering if the world is just black for me... I don't know how to explain it. I guess if I had just become blind, like some people, I might see black. But when I turned blind, I put my whole heart and soul into that spell... and it's as if I have no eyes. Some people are born blind, and I'd assume they see like I do now. I really don't know... honestly, America, it's like theres... nothing. No blackness. No color. Just... nothing."

Alfred stayed silent for a moment. He pulled his legs closer to his chest, his heart broken. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "If I had one wish, dude, I'd wish you could see again."

"I don't regret it, you know," Britain smiled sadly. "I know it what I did was stupid and rash, but I don't regret it... not even a second of it. When I went blind, I also destroyed a demon that threatened everyone. However, that's _still _not why I did it. I killed that monster and used that powerful spell because it was a threat to you. You see, I didn't do it for Italy, or France, or Japan, or anyone else. I did it purely because I was worried about you. That _thing _disappeared, and you were safe. That's why I will never regret what I did, no matter how much I want to see. If I had to trade in my vision for your life, that's fine with me. I would want to die before losing you, do you understand?"

America looked towards his ally. He had never been aware of how much he actually meant to the blonde.

"If I ever had a wish... I know what it would be," Britain continued. "I would want to see you, even if it was just for a second, I would want to see you again. Not distraught, blood-covered, and injured, like you were in that house. If anything, that's what I regret... That the last thing I ever saw with my eyes was you, yelling my name desperately, your emotion pure terror. If I had one wish, just one, it would be that I could see you smiling, happy, joyful."

Alfred waited for a moment, but it seemed to him that Arthur was done talking. "I-I'm sorry," was all he could say. The Englishman turned towards his American ally, and listened for a moment.

"Are you... crying?" he questioned, his face concerned.

"It's all my fault. I'm so sorry. You'll never be able to see again, and I'm so, so sorry!" America sniffed. It was unlike him to cry, but at this time he felt so guilty that he just had to.

"It's not your fault; what I did was rash and it ended up getting me the way I am. Blind. If it's anyone's fault, it's mine," Arthur offered, reaching his hand out for the American to grab hold of. "It's okay, I still dream almost every night. That's almost like seeing... almost."

Alfred leaned over and hugged the blonde, repeating the same words over and over; "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

Arthur was surprised at the gesture. Hugging was something that America wouldn't be caught dead doing, and now he was clutching the Englishman's clothes and sobbing like a small child.

"P-pull yourself together, America!" Britain stuttered, looking towards the source of the sound. He hadn't heard Alfred cry like this for a very long time... at least before the American's fight for independence. The sobbing man turned to look into the British man's foggy eyes. They were so dull and lifeless... their glimmer, shine, and fighting spirit gone, leaving only an empty eye.

"America! Stop feeling so upset! Just because I can't see doesn't mean you can ruin my trousers with your tears!" Arthur yelled, standing up swiftly and turning back towards the American. "I may not have the sense of sight, but I've got a better sense of touch, taste, sound, and smell than you'll ever have. I'll be able to listen to music better than you ever will! I'll be able to feel my way around better than you ever will! And, most importantly, I'll be able to smell and taste my cooking better than you ever, ever will!"

The younger blonde laughed, his face converting back to its usual to-cool-for-you self. His ally was trying to make him feel better.

"You see, you wanker, I may be blind, but that's not going to stop me from being me. Just because I can't see doesn't mean I'm a tottally different person. Yah, I may bump into walls on my way to the loo, but that doesn't mean I've stopped being the United Kingdom... or Arthur Kirkland for that matter. So stop saying your sorry, and don't treat me like some waste of space. I may not be able to see it, but I could beat your arse pretty hard, if need be."

America stood up. He was taller than the man he had once called an older brother by at least a head. Alfred had been sure that Arthur's blindness meant he was a changed man, like all those soldiers from war films. They'd come home blind and sit in their chairs all day with bloody rags on their faces. Now that he noticed, that wasn't Britain. Britain had commanded Alfred to lead him around the house twice upon his arrival. Every morning, the older blonde had felt his way around the house until he finally found the American. He couldn't see, but he had been trying so hard to be of use. He asked to clean up, sweep, anything. America realized that Britain wasn't the one lacking drive, but he himself. He didn't let Arthur do anything out of fear that he could get hurt do to his lack of eyesight. Now he realized just how much he had treated the older man as a waste of space, as a useless part of the household, and he felt awful. HE pledged that from that moment forward, Britain would be worked to the bone! Well, maybe not, but he'd have a fair share of work to do!

Alfred leaned down and pulled the shorter blonde into a hug. He held the green-eyed man close to himself and smiled. The two stood like that for a moment, together. Then, Britain pulled away, his face pink.

"B-bloody hell, America. Are you okay now, or are you going to wake me up again as soon as I fall asleep?" Britain muttered, making his way towards the door, feeling his way there by using the wall. Alfred grinned at his ally's reaction to the hug, but quickly got back into his own bed.

That night, Britain dreamed. He dreamed he saw a man with dark blonde hair and glasses walk up to him and give him a toothy grin. A happy, smiling, joyful America.

If only wishes could come true.

Sometimes they do.

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**A/N: Okay, sorry... I never know how to end these things. Well, I'm going to be getting back to my other FanFictions now, so I hope you enjoyed this one. Please leave a review, and favorite this story if you liked it enough. Thank you! **


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